Dec. 6th, 2011 01:24 am
sorchawench: (Default)
Once upon a time...

My ass.

Sure, it's the way the story goes. Once upon a time, some singing, a wicked stepmother, a kiss, and happily ever after....but really, you know bupkis.

Did you ever stop to think about that wicked stepmother? No. You were too busy being enchanted by Snow White singing to the birds or Cinderella and those damned mice.

I hated those mice.

Almost as much as I hated the role into which I had been thrust. Someone had to do it they said. Someone had to take the fall, be the bad guy, do the dirty work. And so the wicked stepmother was born. But did it ever occur to you that without me, you wouldn't have had a fairy tale princess that needed rescuing? Without me there never would have been a poison apple or the need for a magic created gown and pumpkin coach. Without me Prince Charming would have found a perfectly suitable girl within his realm and settled down to raise a passel of children.

Ah ha! Didn't think of it that way, did you? You have no idea what I went through with those girls.

Take Snow White. No, really....take her.

Skin white as snow, hair black as night, lips red as blood. Did you know, she spent hours bathing her skin in milk, avoiding the sun like the plague, and lathering herself in creams and unguents to get that white as snow glow? Snow White wouldn't lift a finger to help a person out. She was demanding and whiny and when she didn't get her way, oh....the tantrums. I didn't initially intend on having her heart delivered to me by that huntsman, but I could only take so much of the simpering and demanding.

After I learned that she had changed, with the dwarves, I tried to make amends. And thus the basket of apples. Only greedy guts there took too big of a bite and passed out. If any of those dwarves had actually knew the Heimlich maneuver, Snow White would have been fine. Thankfully Prince Charming came along and managed to figure the situation out.

And Cinderella. Whew boy. Now there was a peach. How she was supposed to run a house, much less a castle was beyond me. She had zero clue of how to manage a household. The servants were lazy, merchants were robbing her blind, and her father....well...notice he wasn't around much at all. Yes, I was hard on the girl, maybe too hard at times, but it was for her own good. I was trying to teach her something of use, but she'd rather lay around all day playing with those Gods be damned mice. When the invite for the ball came about, I felt it in her best interests NOT to attend. Frankly, she was so vapid and clueless, it was embarrassing. We had a reputation to uphold, after all.

How was I supposed to know that there was a Fairy Godmother in the picture? If I'd known, then maybe I could have worked with HER and gotten some common sense knocked into Cinderella. What did I get instead? A pair of glass slippers. Which just proves to me that the Fairy Godmother had about as much sense as Cinderella. Who wears glass slippers...really?

Next time I marry, I'm going for someone with sons. It's got to be easier than raising girls.

This week's story can be blamed on [livejournal.com profile] shadowwolf13's entry last week and is dedicated to wicked stepmothers everywhere.


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